Not Strictly Sherlock

Mrs. Hudson's Day Off

It took Mrs. Hudson two days to clean up her house on Baker Street after the "accident." Of course, the Fire Brigade came out as the neighbors had sent word, but they really had no duty to perform because the fire itself was very small. The smoke, however, well that is a different story, as the plume of dark and noxious smoke that issued forth from Sherlock's upstairs flat was both panic-inducing and superior to that produced by London's factories.

The smell that remained was like an annoying relative who comes to visit and cannot be dislodged without considerable effort. Still, after two days of open windows and a warm potpourri of vanilla extract simmering almost non-stop, the house had returned to a level of olfactory normalcy that suited Mrs. Hudson.

Mr. Holmes was at fault of course; it was another one of his chemical experiments gone awry. He was eccentric before, but now, since the Doctor had gotten married and moved on to live with his new wife, he had become increasingly difficult. Doctor Watson had proven to be an amazing counter to the detective's peculiarities and brought a genteel courtesy and reasonableness to the world of Mr. Holmes. But, now, the Doctor was busy with patients, and instead of catching criminals, he had become concerned with the fulfillment of Mary Watson's dreams and desires.

Sherlock Holmes was again alone with his experiments, and Mrs. Hudson suspected that he was lonely, or at least he missed the Doctor much more than he let on.

Today, Mr. Holmes had left for Devon, and to his great delight, Doctor Watson was free to accompany him. Holmes had informed Mrs. Hudson that he did not plan on returning to Baker Street until late on the morrow; thus, with the house aired out and the mess cleaned up, Martha Hudson decided to meet a friend for tea and perhaps a walk in the park.

The walk from Baker Street to Marylebone Street, then eastward past the famous Madame Tussauds Wax Museum, and on to the small tea shop across from Regent's Park was pleasant, and Martha wished it had taken longer as she enjoyed the quiet. Not that the streets were quiet, on the contrary, as Marylebone was a bustling, cab choked affair with people of all sorts running and hustling about. No, the noise was very typical of any main thoroughfare in London, as the din raised by the crowds of people, horses, steel-rimmed coach wheels, hawkers, buskers, street girls, teamsters, and deliverymen, all provided the city with a never-ending backdrop of sound.

Mrs. Hudson paid no attention to the background noise, as she was enjoying the quiet of anonymity: a state that allowed one to be alone while in the middle of a great party. But reflective moments like this were always too short, and before she knew it Martha Hudson was approaching "Regent Park Tea Shop."

"Martha!" called a woman's voice above the din.

Mrs. Hudson immediately recognized her friend Ellie, who was standing outside the tea shop and was waving a handkerchief so enthusiastically one could have interpreted her actions as an attempt to surrender. Martha returned her greeting with a smile and a reserved wave.

"Here you are my dear!" said Ellie with a hug and a kiss.

"Ah, so good to see you Ellie, and looking as beautiful as ever," returned Mrs. Hudson, who modestly returned her friend's embrace.

"Mmmm still as enthusiastic as a lady's maid I see," smirked Ellie, then she opened the door to the tea shop and followed her good friend Martha inside.

Mrs. Ellie Buckley was a friend whose family had been close to Mrs. Hudson's family since their parents were children. Martha had stood up with Ellie as her Maid of Honor when she married her husband, Phillip, who sadly was lost at sea when his ship sank en route from Dublin. Theirs was a dark fate now, as Ellie and Martha were bound by both friendship and their shared status as widows; cast into roles they were too young to play.

The two women had not seen each other for some months, and discussing family news was the first order of business. But it was always covered too quickly, as neither woman had children, Martha's parents were dead, and she was an only child, and Ellie's brother Edward lived in America, and her mother had moved in with Ellie's Aunt in Leeds.

Ellie was her best friend and in many respects her only family, so perhaps that was why their meetings were so bittersweet, as seeing each other was a reminder of how alone they were. Maybe that was why they didn't see each other more often.

A Nice Quiet Walk

They finished their tea and walked across to Regent's Park when Ellie broached the topic she was most interested in hearing about.

"So, Martha, tell me what has your lodger Mr. Holmes been up to lately?"

Mrs. Hudson shot Ellie a sideways look and an accompanying smirk in response. Ellie thought it must be so exhilarating to have the great Sherlock Holmes living in your home, she simply could not imagine that there were drawbacks.

"Oh, he has been up to his usual shenanigans... just this week he tried to burn down the house - again - with one of his experiments."

"But Martha, all of England reads and follows his exploits! And he is right under your roof, certainly, there must be some element of excitement in this situation for you?" asked Ellie, hoping for a small anecdote about life with the famous detective.

"Let's sit on this bench, and I will share a bit more about life with Sherlock Holmes," and the two women sat down on a park bench in the shade of a Foxglove tree. They noticed the gentleman sitting on a bench opposite who appeared to have been feeding the birds as a few pigeons still pecked at crumbs scattered about the walk.

"My dear Ellie, living at Baker Street with Mr. Holmes is never a dull affair. There are constantly people ringing at all hours to engage him, or else bringing him information, or evidence, or on occasion, a threat or two."

Of course, this was not the first time Ellie had asked about Mr. Holmes, since she was fascinated by every little piece of information that Martha was willing to divulge.

Martha was giving Ellie an example when she looked across at the gentleman bird-feeder. He had failed to great them, which was odd for a gentleman. He certainly did not look comfortable in the position he was sitting, with his head down resting on his chest and his legs outstretched as if he was in a hammock. Was he sleeping?

"Sir...Sir... are you alright?" asked Martha.

Ellie, oblivious to the gentlemen, looked from her friend across to the gentleman.

"I wonder if he is ill because he does not look as if he is asleep," said Mrs. Hudson to no one in particular.

Martha stood up and slowly walked over to the gentleman. He was nicely dressed but was not wearing the quality clothing of a gentleman. She thought that he might be a merchant or a solicitor. The closer she got to him, the more anxious she became, as her instincts told her that something was not right.

She stood next to the man and reached out, placed her hand on his shoulder, and gave him a gentle shake.

"Sir, I say, are you alright?"

And with that gentle shake, the gentleman started to slump over towards Martha who quickly responded by pushing against his shoulder in an attempt to keep him upright on the bench.

"Oh my, oh my! Sir...Sir!... Ellie come help me quickly!"

Ellie hurried over to the bench, and the two women managed to push the gentleman back upright into a sitting position; however, as they finished completing their task the gentleman's head lolled back so that he was looking straight up into the branches of the Foxglove tree. His hat fell harmlessly onto the grass and mud behind the bench.

He was eyes-wide-open, unblinking and fixed, with his mouth agape in a silent scream and his body devoid of breath and life.

***